


Resident Evil: House Party Edition.

by Vixenility



Series: Resident Evil: House Party Edition. [1]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: All characters are in college and nothing bad happens, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Sex, F/F, F/M, House Party, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Other, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Vaginal Sex, just a lot of sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24023017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixenility/pseuds/Vixenility
Summary: A series of thoughtless smut, long or short, all taking place on the same house party. This party, held in the Ashford Mansion, will be a wild one to be recounted for generations to come.
Relationships: Ashley Graham/Ada Wong, Ashley Graham/Luis Sera, Claire Redfield/Ada Wong, Claire Redfield/Jill Valentine, Jake Muller/Ashley Graham, Jill Valentine/Ada Wong, Leon S. Kennedy/Jack Krauser, Piers Nivans/Claire Redfield, Sherry Birkin/Jake Muller
Series: Resident Evil: House Party Edition. [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1732888
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Resident Evil: House Party Edition.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea bruv

The pale, silvery glow of the moon bathed the street and roofs, showing its espectacular beauty to those who dared to watch it. Also, in its distance, in the intricate craters and bumps of the moon painted a scornful (yet amused) celestial expression as it watched a certain house party go down in a certain someone's mansion.

Yes, all that beautiful blabber up there was to transition to a house party. Leave me alone, man, I'm having fun with this.

Anyways, this lavish mansion was garishly decorated with a fine sense for the expensive art -- a full, authentic marble sculpture standing gloriously against the wall next to the doorway, two fine chandelier hung from the high ceiling, the impeccable floor was polished to the point it was like a mirror with patterns and design. Just above the fireplace of the living room was the family picture of the blonde, wealthy and strangely disturbing Ashfords, including the grandfather and the iconic (and infamous) twins: Alexia and Alfred, nearly identical and both very menacing in their looks.

Quite frankly, no one felt comfortable with the Ashfords, but they had a mansion and they were holding a party, with lots of alcohol and snacks included. With the grumpy, conservative and old Ashfords out of the house, the twins decided to have a house party. Well, quite frankly, it wasn't just their idea. Carlos Oliveira put the notion in their head and the rest flew on its own. With the assistance of the cool guys and girls from University, the party cemented itself in history already; it had all the potential in the world to become super legendary -- at least for this town -- and the mansion was big enough to host the myriad of unknown people that filtered through the door and lounged everywhere like it was their home.

Who had been invited you ask?

Well, for one, Carlos Oliveira -- scruffy looking, with his disheveled yet adorably fluffy black mane -- was the most popular of the attendants. Mostly popular because of his party animal nature and his cool guy persona. A bulky, handsome guy that had a soft hidden interior that not many people got to explore. He was ensconced onto the couch with a bottle of beer sweating down his palms and fingers, still cold and tasty, as he spoke to a few pals. One of those pals, the red valkyrie with a charming smile and hypnotizing blue eyes, casually passed by to steal his beer, shooting him a knowing, teaseful smirk. He laughed and waved her away, letting her steal it, watching her sit by the arm rest. Claire Redfield was that bold thief, taking a quick swig of the drink. This girl was equally popular in her own right. And right off the bat, her beauty may not look intimidating to the inexperienced viewer if it wasn't for the fact that she was sisters with the tough soldier boy. And if she hadn't demonstrated her skills with a knife--. But really, hidden within that heavenly look, was a motherly smile and a heart of gold that still hinted at the reckless and the free-spirited. Seated next to Carlos, eagerly chatting was none other than JD, whose blonde short mohawk still never failed to surprise and draw the attention of people -- but more so than that was his energetic gestures and vibrant stories to match. He had the attention of one Billy Coen, donning a leather jacket that hid his remarkable body to some extent; he also had the attention of the young and dashing, Leon S. Kennedy, who, by doing absolutely nothing but smiling, still caught the dreamy glances and sighs from some girls (and guys) in the party. 

That was just one small group amongst the several groups, duos, trios and foursomes that were inside the mansion! By the stairs were the trio of cute but dangerous girls. Jill Valentine was seated far up, leaning her back against the wooden railing and downing her third beer since the party started (which was not too long ago); Sheva Alomar was standing against the railling down the steps, recounting the time she and Carlos had a thing but he bailed out on her in the restaurant. I bet you want to hear the end of that story, huh? You don't. Though it made Jill's laugh erupt from the very depths of her being, followed by the adorable giggle of Rebecca Chambers, who sat next to Jill and was on the receiving end of her affectionate slaps and taps amidst the laughing fits.

Brooding alone with his arms crossed over his chest was the serious looking Jake Muller, scowling and possibly judging the passerbys for staring at him for too long. He shined in this party for the absence of his best friend, Sherry Birkin, who had yet to arrive. The dynamic duo were known for sticking together for a few years now, practically best friends for life and possible lovers. But right now, Jake was the dynamic uno and not all that dynamic to be totally fair. The girl with big, dreamy brown eyes was Ashley Graham rocking that Ashley Tisdale-esque look -- that we all know and love and I won't let anyone tell me otherwise. She stared, shyly and discreetly, towards the good looking, clean shaven Muller. Yes, despite his foul mood and nasty attitude, which was totally unbecoming and not for a rich girl like her, she felt the strings of her heart tugged and pulled her towards the cute bad boy. Well, the other cute bad boy going around was the suave Billy but Jake just had that something she was looking for. Billy was too... friendly, for her? She couldn't explain it, the poor thing, let her live.

Gathered around the fancy fireplace (that didn't have neither fire nor its place) were the group of guys that had all aspired -- and still seem to aspire -- of becoming police officers and eventual detectives. A strong sense of justice emanated from all of them, though youth and inexperience overshadowed that very essence. Chris Redfield was the unspoken leader of this small group, listening to Barry Burton's snake story -- a timeless classic that still surprised a few people. Next to the bulky, golden soldier boy was the golden puppy himself, Chris' bestfriend Piers Nivans who was remarkably leaner and had cherubic features that didn't inspire fear as much as it inspired confidence and fondness. Compared to Richard Aiken and Joseph Frost, though? He looked like a baby. He glanced around, noticing more and more people who he didn't know -- maybe people who he had only seen once or twice before. Among his friends, he felt comfortable, but he knows that should he detach, he would feel a little bit like the odd one in the middle of the party. Chris himself had no plans to let the puppy out of him sight, but he eyed, quite cooly, every other girl and guy that passed by giving him a look. Yes, he was considering scoring that night, but he was still considering it. Barry? Well, he's too engrossed into the stories and the laughter it erupted.

A lot of unknown faces were here, a good chunk of them complete strangers that managed to stumble through the wrought iron gate without raising suspicions or questions. One of them was the sneaky and mildly annoying Steve Burnside, who was a bit younger than most of them and too boisterous for a few of the girls of this party. Still, he looked around with a red cup in his hand (filled with... mysterious substances that looked like a lot of drinks mixed together in a deadly concoction); he hunted for a girl that looked at him and went for it without shame. Rejection was just a stepping stone to greatness, and the night was as young as 9 P.M. 

Soon, the party was popping and eventually music came from the expensive stereo set that sounded like pure, crisp quality. That's when people started to really get animated, lively and perhaps a bit too buzzed to be considered sober. Coherent conversations now turned into shouting matches against the music, though still coherent but hilariously misunderstood. A lot of the people who were outside scurried inside thanks to the music now blaring, a lot of couples traversed up and down the set of stairs -- some blissful with lust, some just looking for some privacy for gossip and some just looking to steal...

Yeah, there were some people like that. Namely Luis Sera, who always had an eye for pissing off the Ashfords. Oh yeah, we'll totally get to him later.

Above them all were the judgemental faces and dagger glares from the former masters of this mansion, the Ashfords at large in several paintings across the high walls. All of them discreetly stared at the boisterous youth, so vigorous. Little did everyone know was that this night was going to be long and wild.

Well, wild may be an understatement.


End file.
